Running
by netangel182
Summary: In New York, everyone is running. All Jack wants to do is run away and Spot has been running from himself. It takes someone they both love running for her life to make them finally stop.
1. Disclaimer

Ah, the evil Disclaimer: I do not own the Newsies. They all belong to some nice person over at Disney who, by the way, has an exorbitant amount of money and could share with me… a poor college student. But I digress… Disclaimer: The only characters that I own are the Brooklynites, Isie and Kiara. Feel free to use them in your stories, just let me know first!

And now… on with the show…


	2. Chapter 1

"You see, this is the problem with you, Jacky boy," Racetrack said smugly, clenching a cigar between his teeth before collecting the pot of spare change and cigarettes that littered the table. "You just don't understand the fundamentals of the game. It's all a matter of odds."

"Or you are just damn lucky!" Skittery teased, reshuffling the cards.

Jack Kelly smirked as he watched his friends joke. He quickly gathered what was left of his meager wages and stood from his seat. "Well boys, it's been fun. But I gotta go see about a girl."

Race chuckled, shooting the leader a knowing grin. "Thanks for the donation. Have fun."

"Always," Jack said, raising his eyebrows suggestively. He tipped his hat and headed out the door.

Stepping out into the cool February evening air, Jack pulled his collar around his neck. He reached into his breast pocket and pulled out a cigarette. Lighting it, he started down the street toward the Jacobs' apartment, light snow falling around him.

As David answered the door, a smirk crawled across his lips. He spit in his hand and extended it to Jack.

"Hey Davey," Jack said, shaking his hand.

David raised an eyebrow. "You know that you are late, right?"

"She angry?" Jack asked, pulling his hat tighter onto his head.

A loud crash came from inside the apartment, followed by a string of swearing that would make a sailor blush.

"I'll take that as a yes," Jack said, taking a deep breath. "You sure you don't wanna hang around for awhile?"

David squeezed past Jack in the narrow hallway, shaking his head. "Good luck."

Jack stood in the open doorway for a moment, collecting himself. He watched unnoticed as Sarah moved around the small apartment, cleaning. She always cleaned when she was upset. These days, the Jacobs' apartment was the cleanest place in Manhattan. The thin veil of happiness from the victory over Pulitzer nearly two years earlier had been quickly stripped away. The Jacobs family had fallen on harder times when Meyer was refused re-employment after his arm healed. The entire family was forced to work twice as hard just to make ends meet. Les had long since taken up residence in the lodging house to escape the argument and tension that came along with the economic distress that the family was experiencing. David split his time between his obligations at home and the newsies, spending occasional nights at the lodging house as well.

As for Jack and Sarah, the road had been rocky to say the least. What had once been a carefree, teenage relationship had quickly turned into one of bickering and accusations. He couldn't remember the last time that he heard Sarah laugh. For that matter, he couldn't remember the last time that they spent a night together without an argument.

He closed his eyes and leaned his head back against the open doorframe. Sarah chose that moment to glance up at him. She froze, staring directly at him. "Are you cheating on me?"

Jack's head shot up, his eyes growing as wide as saucers in shock. His mouth gaped open and he was at a loss for words. He wasn't even through the door and she was picking a fight. Sarah had accused him of a lot of things in the time that they had been together, but cheating? Slowly regaining his composure, he pushed off the doorframe and entered the apartment, closing the door behind him. The click of the latch echoed in the empty apartment. He removed his hat and jacket, throwing them absently on a chair.

"I'm not cheating on you," he said flatly. "I'd never do that."

"Then where were you tonight?" Sarah accused, shooting him a glare.

Jack sighed. "I was playing poker with the boys and lost track of time."

"Do you expect me to believe that?"

"It's the truth!"

Sarah's gaze iced over. "How am I supposed to know that?"

"Because I am telling you, Sarah." Jack was beginning to lose control of his temper. He followed her with his eyes as she paced around the kitchen, wringing a towel in her hands. "Have I ever given you a reason not to trust me?"

"I suppose not," she said, her voice finally softening slightly. She cautiously walked toward him, taking a seat beside him on the couch. "But I still don't believe that you were playing poker."

The hold that Jack had on his temper quickly unraveled. "Damn it Sarah! I ain't lyin to ya!"

His frustration finally bubbling over, he grabbed his hat and coat and stormed out of the apartment. The crisp snap of the door slamming behind him hung in the air as he bolted down the stairs. He cursed and kicked the slushy snow that collected in the gutter. With a sigh, he lit a cigarette and started back to the lodging house.

"What am I doin?" he questioned the darkness.

"Isie!"

A petite brunette pushed her way through the crowded streets of Boston, expertly dodging the throngs of men who cast her sidelong glances.

"Isie, will you wait for me please?"

Letting out a deep sigh, the brunette finally stopped and waited for her friend to catch up. "Will ya hurry up, Kiara? I gotta get this letter off to my brother before work."

Kiara, a saucy Irish-Catholic with spiral-curled jet-black hair, scanned the horizon with her clear blue eyes. "Yeah, it is getting late."

Isie stopped at the post office, quickly handing the letter off to the old man behind the desk, along with a few precious coins. "New York, please."

He smiled and stamped the envelope, tossing it into the sack. "You have a nice night now, young lady."

Kiara audibly chuckled behind her, but Isie shot a glare at here. Smiling politely at the old man, she nodded and started outside, pulling Kiara along.

"Ready for another night?" Kiara asked coolly, her Boston accent strong as ever.

Isie took a deep breath, removing the shawl that had been wrapped around her shoulders. A slight chill ran up her spine as the cold February air danced over the bare skin of her arms and chest. "I am never ready."

Snickering, Kiara removed her shawl as well and linked arms with Isie. They slowly made their way through the darkening streets of Boston, in search of an easy mark. Two well dressed gentlemen approached them on the sidewalk, money in hand, their intentions obvious. With a heavy heart, Isie pulled her dress lower to expose more of her bosom and took the arm of one of the men. It wasn't a respectable job. Isie knew that. But it kept a roof over her head and food in her stomach.

"I didn't choose this," she reminded herself silently. "It chose me."

Spot Conlon lay in his bed, staring up at the cracks in the plaster ceiling. Slight movement to his right caught his attention and a thin, pale hand came to rest on the bare muscled of his chest. He turned his head, readjusting so that he could stare down at the small woman cuddled naked beside him. Her auburn hair, tangled from their encounter earlier in the evening, lay strewn across the thin pillow that they shared. He leaned his head on his elbow, watching her chest rise and fall steadily.

There was a light knock on the door and Blade Kellen popped his shaggy blond head into the room. "Spot-"

The Brooklyn leader quickly held a finger to his lips to silence Blade, motioning for him to leave. As quietly as possible, Spot slipped to the edge of the bed and groped in the darkness for his pants. A cool hand wrapped around his chest from behind.

"Come back to bed."

Spot smiled at the groggy, heavily accented voice, feeling her breath on his ear. He turned and placed a gentle kiss on her lips. "I'll be right back. Don't move."

Half asleep, he shuffled his way into the hallway where Blade leaned lazily against the opposite wall. "You seem to be havin' a good time."

"Did you need somethin?" Spot asked, shooting his right-hand-man a cold glance. "If ya haven't noticed, I'm a little busy."

Blade's eyes clouded over slightly. "Champ got in another fight, with a Lucky from Queens."

"Damn, when is that boy gonna learn?"

Blade shrugged.

"The boy is your brother's best friend, can't you control him?"

"Blondie don't listen to me, what makes you think Champ will?" Blade ran a hand through his hair and slouched against the wall. It wasn't in his nature to be powerless, especially in front of Spot.

Spot let out an uncharacteristic sigh. "Well, I'll talk things over with Shiner and make sure there ain't no bad blood between Queens and Brooklyn. And tell Champ I want to see him in the mornin."

Nodding, Blade turned and headed for the bunk room. Spot watched him walk away before staring at his closed door. Knowing full well what waited behind it, he took a deep breath.

"I'm losin control," he murmured, checking to make sure that no one heard him before he entered the room.


	3. Chapter 2

By the time that the sun began to crest over the buildings of Boston, Isie was exhausted. She pulled her shawl tightly around her shoulders to bar out the cold early morning breeze. Kiara walked beside her, quietly counting her earnings for the night.

"Not bad for a Thursday night. How did you come out?"

Isie shrugged as they approached the crumbling boardinghouse where they slept thir days away. "Enough to pay the bills."

"If it isn't the best whores in Boston."

Isie's blood ran cold when she heard a gravelly voice coming from the shadows that lingered between the buildings. She pulled Kiara behind her. Despite the fact that her friend was over a year her senior and towered over her, Isie instinctively felt the need to protect her.

"McCabe," she said flatly as the slim man crawled out of the shadows, his actions stilted by intoxication.

"You ladies are behind on your payments." McCabe closed the distance between himself and the girls. "The boss ain't too happy."

Standing her ground, Isie crossed her arms over her chest. "We don't owe you or your boss anything."

"We provide you protection, sweety," McCabe slurred. "Boston is a dangerous place for women like you. You'd be wise to keep our protection.

His hands went to the button on his trousers. "I'm willing to take my payment in other ways."

Kiara gasped audibly as McCabe came dangerously close to Isie, but the petite brunette was not dismayed. When McCabe came close enough, she reached up and slapped him squarely across the cheek.

"We can protect ourselves," she spat as she pushed past him, pulling Kiara along behind her.

"We'll see about that."

Isie's heart stopped when she heard the cold click of steel split the crisp morning air. Taking a deep breath, she turned, coming face to face with the barrel of a small pistol. Thinking as quickly as possible, she leaned over to Kiara.

"Run."

Without hesitation, Kiara took off down the empty street and around the corner. While McCabe was distracted, Isie gave him a swift kick in the groin. The shock jarred the gun, causing it to discharge a bullet into the brick beside her head. He lost his grip on the weapon and it flew onto the step beside Isie. In one hasty motion, she picked it up, pointed it at McCabe and cocked the hammer. As he lunged toward her, Isie did the first thing she could think of and pulled the trigger.

McCabe's limp body fell to the ground, the blood oozing from his chest to stain the surrounding snow. Isie stared at him for a moment before tossing away the gun and bolting down the street to find Kiara.

"Isie what happened?"

Ignoring Kiara's innocent question, Isie grabbed her by the arm and dragged her down the street.

"Where are we going?"

"The train station," Isie murmured. "We've gotta get outta Boston."

* * *

Jack Kelly leaned back against the red brick exterior of the Duane Street Lodging House, absently smoking a cigarette as he waited for David. They were headed to Medda's for the afternoon to escape the cold, not to mention reality. Jack felt a bit guilty, having promised to visit Sarah that afternoon. But after the previous night's argument and a horrible day of selling in the cold, Jack was in no mood to deal with his crumbling relationship. He needed mindless entertainment, and a night at Medda's with girls in short skirts and legs for days would surely satisfy that.

David turned the corner and flashed Jack a shy grin.

"I feel like a traitor."

Jack sighed. "I just need to get away."

"Let's go then," David said eagerly, dragging Jack down the street. Jack chuckled, he could never keep David away from Medda's girls for too long.

* * *

"Well, if it ain't Jacky Boy!"

Jack and David were just about to enter the theater when Spot approached, his arm draped around an unusually attractive chestnut brunette. Jack hesitantly spit into his hand and extended it to the Brooklyn leader, who returned the handshake. Jack nodded to Blade Kellen as he approached along with his brother Blondie and Champ McDonald.

"What brings you to this neck of the woods boys?" David said, acknowledging the visitors.

"Need some new female blood is all," Blade said, earning a glare from Ell as she cuddled closer to Spot's side protectively.

"Hate to cut this short, boys, but the show's about to start," Spot said, leading the group indoors.

* * *

The newsies poured themselves onto the street hours later, reeking of whisky and cheap perfume. As the night wore on, they had been joined by droves of Manhattan newsies, and they had become quite the drunken mob. David and Blondie, the only sober members of their respective groups, did their best to wrangle the newsies toward the lodging house since the Brooklyn boys were in no condition to get home.

When everyone was situated in whatever empty bunks they could find, aside from Ell and Spot, who were sharing a bunk in the corner against Kloppman's wishes, the two boys exhaustedly headed down to the lobby. Blondie headed for the door, pulling his collar high around his neck. It had gotten incrementally colder as the night wore on and it was a long walk back to Brooklyn.

"You're not stayin?" David asked, rubbing the back of his neck.

Blondie shook his head. "Nah. Somebody's gotta take care of the young ones while they sleep it off."

David spit in his hand and extended it to him. "Good idea. Take care on the way back."

The Brooklyn boy nodded, his trademark blond hair hanging across his face. He smiled and ducked out into the snowy street.


	4. Chapter 3

The train jerked against the tracks, making sleep impossible. Not that Isie was going to be able to sleep anyway. She divided her time between keeping a protective eye on Kiara and staring blankly out the window.

"My brother is going to kill me," she murmured to no one in particular.

Kiara gave her a bewildered glance. "What happened back there, Isabel?"

Despite the shock of Kiara using her full name, she waved her hand nonchalantly and turned her attention back to the window. The snow whizzed by in a fury, the bright white flakes contrasting against the night sky. She closed her eyes as the train jerked again. "What've I gotten myself into?"

* * *

Jack woke with a start the next morning. Suddenly he felt like he had been hit over the head with a sledge hammer. "Urgh. What the hell did I do last night?"

"Drank," David said flatly, pushing a glass of water into his friend's hand. "A lot."

"Where the hell am I?"

Jack turned to see a very groggy Spot sitting up in bed, limbs still entangled with Ell's.

"Keep ya voice down would ya?" Race called, pulling a pillow over his head.

Jack hopped off his bed and silently offered him the glass of water before wobbling into the washroom.

Finally processing his surroundings, Spot cursed and ran a hand through his sandy brown hair. "I gotta get back to Brooklyn. The boys ain't gonna-"

Spot crossed the room and leaned against the wall beside Spot's bed. "Everything's taken care of. Blondie headed back last night."

"In that case," Spot replied, squinting at the early morning sunshine that fought through the grimy windows. "Whatta ya boys say to sellin in Manhattan today?"

Blade murmured his agreement, sitting up in bed reluctantly. Champ rubbed his hands through his curly red hair and hopped out of bed, shaking his head.

"Nah, I'm gonna head back."

* * *

Isie stretched as she stepped off the train onto the platform of Grand Central Station. In spite of the circumstances, she couldn't help feeling her heart soar to be back in New York. The familiar smell of the city, a combination of sewage and waste and the distant fishy smell of the Hudson River filled her nose as she took a deep breath. She glanced around the throngs of people rushing around the train station with a small smile on her face.

Kiara glanced around nervously, obviously out of her element. "What do we do now?"

Linking arms with Kiara, Isie flashed a confident smile. "Now we get you someplace safe."

Isie navigated her way through the streets from memory. She couldn't help the smile that spread across her face. New York was home. It was in her blood. The only people in the world that she loved, aside from Kiara, were in the city. Love. She let out a frustrated breath when the word crossed her mind. All love ever did was get her in trouble.

* * *

Blondie sat slumped in his bed, slowly perusing the paper that he brought home with him. With most of the other older newsies in Manhattan or recovering from a long night, he had easily sold his papers before lunch and opted to relax in the empty lodging house. He had just closed his eyes when the front door slammed, announcing someone's arrival. A few moments later, Champ shuffled into the room, hanging his head.

"You don't look so good," Blondie said with a smirk, only half teasing.

Champ dropped into his bunk. "You have no idea."

With a crooked grin, Blondie returned to his paper. Champ had just laid his head against the pillow when a female voice rang out through the building.

"Anybody home?"

"What the-" Champ sat straight up in bed, knocking his forehead on the bunk above him.

Blondie swung his feet over the edge of the bed, shaking his head at champ. "Come on, ya fink."

He trotted down the stairs nonchalantly, but nearly fell on his face when he caught sight if the pair of women standing in the lobby. The short brunette snagged his attention. Her unmistakable sandy-brown hair and grey eyes made his heart jump into his throat.

"What's the matter, Blondie? Didn't you miss me?"

He quickly bolted down the rest of the stairs and wrapped the small girl in his arms, spinning her in a circle. "Course I missed ya doll!"

"Watch yourself, boyo." Isie teased, shooting him a playful glare.

Champ followed down the stairs slowly, rubbing his forehead absently. Quizzically glancing over at Blondie with his arms wrapped around a girl, his eyes settled on a tall form hovering in the corner. His green eyes grew wide as he scanned the figure curiously. She was taller than most of the girls that he met, with a fragile, slender body. Her hair, though obviously disheveled, hung in beautiful ringlet curls down the middle of her back, and Champ felt an unconscious urge to run his hands through it. She chose that moment to look up at him and he felt like he had been punched in the stomach. He lost himself in the clear blue, everything around him blurring.

A light smack in the chest brought him back to reality.

"You forget your manners?" Isie teased, her eyes sparkling. She pulled him into a hug, whispering in his ear. "Or somethin snaggin your attention?"

He narrowed his eyes at her. "Good ta see you too, Isie."

She smirked playfully before pulling Kiara to her side. "Boys, this here is Kiara. Be nice."

She looked pointedly at Champ before continuing.

"Kiara, meet two of my best friends, Blondie Kellen and Champ McDonald. Pride of the Brooklyn newsies." She paused and looked them up and down playfully. "Sort of."

Kiara nodded a shy hello, smirking as Isie joked with the boys.

When the introductions had been made, Isie glanced around the room expectantly. "So where's Spot?"

"Manhattan most likely," Blondie replied. "He and Jack had quite the night of drinkin last night."

Isie bit her bottom lip trying to plan her next move. Pulling Kiara aside, she whispered into her ear. "I think I need to do this alone."

Kiara narrowed her eyes, studying her friend. She had never seen Isie as shaken as the mention of the two names had invoked. She nodded, understanding that there was some unknown history involved. Her confidence shook slightly as she glanced around the rickety, empty building and the two boys watching them curiously.

Her concern didn't go unnoticed by Isie, who squeezed her arm lightly. "Don't worry. They may look tough, but they're softies."

Smiling, Kiara nodded, studying the boys as Isie crossed the room to talk to them. They could not have been more different in appearance of mannerism, but as they talked, it was obvious that they shared a strong bond. Isie pulled aside the tall red-head, his huge frame making her appear fragile to Kiara for the first time.

"Champ, I need you to do me a favor," Isie said, using her feminine charms out of habit. "I need you to keep an eye on Kiara."

Looking up, she realized that Champ's emerald eyes were already snagged toward the corner where Kiara stood. Isie chuckled lightly. He was obviously smitten, and it came as a relief. With Champ watching her, Kiara would be safe.

Blondie shuffled over, smirking at the look on Champ's face. "What's goin on?"

"I'm headed to Manhattan."

"Ya sure that's a good idea?" Blondie asked, scratching his head.

Isie winked. "We'll find out."


	5. Chapter 4

As the boys around him carried on a conversation, Spot stared absently out the window. He had long since lost interest in the dry conversation of headlines and chorus girls, and Ell has abandoned them earlier in the day in favor of work. Instead, he watched the people pass hurriedly through the cold. His attention was snagged by a small girl wrapped tightly in a shawl, her petticoats showing from under her deep red skirt. He watched her with mild amusement, always willing to check out a beautiful woman. His jaw dropped slightly when she glanced up, locking eyes with him.

"What the hell?" he asked under his breath, studying her closely as she approached Tibby's.

The bell above the door announced her presence in the diner, but Spot was oblivious to it. Instead, he concentrated on her face, the heat rising in his cheeks.

"Hiya boys," she called sweetly, a broad smile on her face.

Without saying a word, Spot rose from his chair. As he approached, her eyes widened in shock. He grabbed her roughly by the upper arm and pulled her back out into the cold air.

David stood leaning against one of the many columns in the diner, watching the scene unwind in mute confusion. Jack rose from his chair and walked toward the door. Leaning his head on the doorframe, he watched the pair vanish into the crowded streets.

"What was that all about?" David finally asked.

"That, my boy," Race started, as he crossed the diner, nursing a cigar, "is Isie."

Mush approached, munching a piece of bread. "Isie's back?"

"Who is Isie?" David asked, still obviously confused.

"Spot's sister," Jack answered softly, pushing off the doorframe and moving back to his abandoned food.

David's eyes grew wide. "Sister? Nobody told me that Spot had a sister?"

"That's cause nobody really talks about her anymore," Mush said, his mouth full. Race smacked him over the head. "What it's the truth."

The group settled down in the booth beside Jack.

"Isie used to spend a lot of time round here, tailin Spot and causin trouble. Then one day, she just up and vanishes. That was two years ago and ain't nobody heard from her since," Race explained, more dramatically than necessary.

"What do you mean vanished?" David asked, leaning his arms on the table in curiosity.

Mush smirked. "No on really knows."

"Some say she got fed up with Spot and took off," Kid Blink offered, pulling a backward chair to join the group.

Unable to resist the juicy conversation, Skittery approached them. "Or she coulda been kidnapped."

David considered these options for a moment. "But wouldn't Spot have gone after her?"

"Ah, there are them brains again," Race joked. "That's why smart money is on Spot sendin her away."

"Why would he do that?" David asked, thinking whether he would ever have the heart to do that to Sarah.

The newsies around the table all shrugged, except Jack, who silently pushed away from the table and walked out into the cold. The others just eyed him curiously.

* * *

Isie twisted her arm, feverishly trying to loose herself from her brother's grasp. "Will ya let go already?"

"What in the hell are you doing here Isabel?" Spot asked. His grey eyes were narrowed in anger and so cold that it shot a chill up her spine.

"Let me go and maybe I will tell you," Isie shot back, her temper beginning to flare.

"Not til we get back to Brooklyn."

She rolled her eyes. "Spot, I came to find you. I'm not going to run away."

Spot's eyes softened slightly, his brotherly instinct kicking in. He loosened the grip on her arm slightly, pulling her across the bridge.


	6. Chapter 5

"Alright boys, clear out!"

Spot was barely through the door when he bellowed out the order. Without question, the younger boys filed out of the room. Only then did Spot finally notice a pale girl sitting wide-eyed in the corner with Champ and Blondie. His anger boiled over and he stormed to the table, glaring at Champ.

"Who the hell is this, boyo? Ya know betta than to bring strange dames back here."

Instinctively, Champ jumped in front of Kiara protectively, but Isie quickly stepped in. "Leave her be, Spot. She's with me."

Kiara's muscles tensed as the strange boy came barreling toward her. She knew, even without introduction, that he was Isie's brother. They shared the same cold blue eyes and sandy hair, not to mention their apparent temper.

"Everything will be fine," Isie whispered as the group took a seat at the battered table in the corner.

Isie made quick introductions, but Spot was soon bored with the formality. "Alright Isie, what gives? What are ya doin here?"

Isie shot a nervous glance at Kiara before concentrating intently on her hands. "Something happened."

"Look at me Isabel," Spot commanded.

When Isie glanced back up at them, Kiara saw softness in her friend that she had never seen before. Spot had noticed it too, and his stern leader exterior faded away, replaced by brotherly protectiveness. His voice softened slightly as he continued. "What'd ya do Isie?"

"I killed someone," she replied softly, focusing on her hands once again.

Kiara suddenly felt like she couldn't breathe. She had figured that something had happened when she ran, but she finally put the pieces together. Isie had killed McCabe, albeit in self-defense. She stood from the table and headed for the door. She shot a reassuring glance at Isie before she silently walked out the door.

As Kiara exited the building, Spot nodded toward Champ, who was already halfway out of his seat. Grabbing his coat, he bolted out the door after her.

With the room nearly empty, Blondie excused himself and headed up to the bunkroom, leaving the siblings alone in the lobby. Isie quickly recounted the circumstances of the shooting. Spot's anger began to spark again as he put the pieces together in his mind.

"Wait a minute," he said coldly. "Do you mean to tell me that you have been turning tricks?"

Isie was shocked by the cruelty in her brother's voice. "How else so you think I kept a roof over my head and food in my stomach?"

"Damnit Isabel, I sent you away to get away from that life. Why the hell would you do that?"

The tight reigns that Isie held on her temper were quickly slipping. "You son of a bitch. You know full well that wasn't what was happening."

"It doesn't matter what was happening, you ain't supposed to be sleeping around!"

Isie's temper exploded. "You know full well that it wasn't sleeping around, not before I left. And why the hell not? You do! You have ever since I was thirteen!"

Spot rolled his eyes, choosing to ignore the obvious dig. "Oh yeah. You were in _love._ I forgot."

"What do you know about love?" Isie shot back. "You've never loved anyone in your life."

"You think that you're still in love? Why don't you ask his girlfriend if he's still in love with you."

Isie felt like her heart had stopped. Her whole body went numb and she stared in mute confusion at her seething brother. Choking back tears, she grabbed her shawl and headed for the door.

Jack absently lit a cigarette as he walked out of Medda's in a daze with Sarah. If he had been alone that afternoon, he would have sworn that Isie had been an illusion; a figment of his imagination like every other image of her in his mind for the last two years.

"Jack," Sarah said softly, her tone kinder than it had been in months. "We need to talk."

The genuine concern in her voice pulled Jack out of his stupor and he concentrated his attention on her.

"I love you," she stated matter-of-factly, "but I know that you don't love me."

Jack started to protest, but she quickly held up a hand. "I know that you try, but I don't have the heart. I have come to accept that now. I have tried to ignore it, but I can't take it anymore."

Jack stammered for a moment, but quickly realized that he had not way to protest her. She had hit closer to the truth than even he wanted to admit. All he could think to do was pull her into a hug. "I am so sorry."

"Whoever she is, she's a very lucky woman," Sarah whispered, wiping a tear from her cheek.

Isie felt like she was frozen to the sidewalk. Her feet had instinctively led her to Manhattan, and as she stood on the shadowy corner near Medda's watching Jack wrap his arms around another woman, she cursed them. As the tears started rolling down her rosy cheeks, she fled for the only sanctuary that she had left in the world.


	7. Chapter 6

Kiara has only been outside for a few minutes when the snow began to fall heavily from the sky above her. The sun has long since disappeared behind the unfamiliar buildings and she snow falling in the soft streetlamp light gave the city an ethereal quality. Her whole life had been spent in Boston, aside from a few forgotten childhood years in Ireland. To her, New York was an adventure, a world filled with new possibilities, a chance for a better life.

A crunch in the new fallen snow behind her quickly brought her back to reality. Admittedly, she lacked the street sense that Isie had, but she was still a woman of the night. She knew how the instinct kicked in when someone is following you. Balling her fists, she mustered up her courage and spun around to face her attacker. The man caught her fist just as it was about to connect with his shadowed face. She began to panic.

"Kiara," a vaguely familiar voice cut the air of the empty street. "Hey, it's jist me."

Quickly removing his hat, the stranger was reveled. His copper curls illuminated by the streetlamps. She let out a relieved sigh and relaxed her arms around her waist. Only then had she realized how bitterly cold it had grown around them.

"I didn't mean to scare ya," Champ said softly, removing his jacket and draping it over her shoulders. "I wasn't sure if you wanted to be along. Just wanted to make sure that you were alright. It ain't the safest part of town."

Kiara was impressed. For a man with muscles as large as she was, he was surprisingly gentle. It was a shock considering there had never been a single man in her life who treated her with respect, not to mention take care of her.

"Come on, let me show you the city." Champ offered her his arm and led her through the deepening snow toward the Brooklyn Bridge.


	8. Chapter 7

Spot pounded up the stairs to his bedroom, slamming the door behind him in frustration. He stood in the middle of the room, panting as though out of breath. Suddenly angry and confused, he threw his cane across the room, leaving a mark on the crumbling plaster. With a sigh, he sank into a chair by the window, pulled out his cigarettes and slid up the grimy pane of glass. The room quickly filled with crisp, cool air. Whether it was the air or the calming influence of the cigarette, his frustration began to melt away, replaced with a sinking feeling of guilt.

He mobbed from the window and collapsed on the bed, absently watching the cigarette smoke dance in the breeze above him.

"Blondie! Git in here!" he finally bellowed.

There was a light knock on the door before Blondie's shaggy head popped into the room. "Ya called?"

Spot motioned for him to enter. Shuttering from the drastic temperature change in the room, Blondie glanced over at the open window and back at Spot. Seeing the question in Blondie's eye, Spot quickly snuffed his cigarette and crossed the room to close the window.

"Isie left?" Blondie asked cautiously.

Spot nodded curtly. "Find her."

The tone in his voice made it painfully clear that there was nothing ore to say and Blondie quickly ducked out of the room. Shaking his head he trotted down the stairs, pulling on his jacket. The front door creaked open just as he reached for the knob.

Blade pushed his way into the room, shaking show from his blond hair. "Hey little brother."

"Where have you been?" Blondie asked coolly.

"Taken care of business," Blade replied with a smirk. "What have I missed?"

Blondie just shook his head and slipped out the door into the snowy street.

Isie's feet moved numbly through the street, independently of her mind. Before she knew it, she was staring up at a deteriorating brick building. She felt as if time had stopped as she crossed the threshold. The dusty, abandoned apartment building was covered with ghostly footprints and moth-eaten canvas tarps, illuminated by the golden lamplight that cascaded through the high windows. She took a deep breath of stale air, tears still stinging in the corners of her eyes.

Champ was quite sure that he was completely frostbitten by the time that he and Kiara reached the Brooklyn Bridge, but he didn't care. Kiara, wrapped tightly in his coat to bar out the cold wind, occasionally glanced over at him with a bright smile, her cheeks rosy compared to the rest of her pale skin.

"Well this is it," Champ announced, leaning against the railing and gazing down at the frozen Hudson below. "The edge of Brooklyn."

Kiara joined him on the railing, contently scanning the unfamiliar buildings around them as the snow fell silently. A smirk pulled at the corners of Champ's lips, dimples appearing in his cheeks. He bumped his shoulder into Kiara's to catch her attention. "How ya doin kid?"

She turned, gave him a weak smile and simply shrugged. Champ felt like his stomach had fallen into his boots. Even with the smile on her face, he could read certain sadness in her cool blue eyes. An overwhelming urge to wrap his arms around her suddenly washed over him as he stared down at her. Taking a deep breath, he fought the feeling, turning back to the river. "Maybe we should get ya back. It's been a long day."

Kiara nodded silently and they started back through the falling snow toward the lodging house. Champ was suddenly aware of how closely they were walking and he felt a little spring in his step as he directed her through the dark streets.

Blondie had never been happier to turn the corner onto Duane Street. The bone-chilling cold had become unbearable after he crossed the bridge into Manhattan and all he could think of was sidling up to the warm pot-bellied stove in the lobby of the Manhattan lodging house. He had no intention of wandering blindly around the city in search of Isie. Jack's boys would know how to find her, and, if nothing else, he could scrounge up some food, having missed dinner. He pushed through the door and made a beeline for the stove, nodding subtly to Kloppman behind the desk as he passed. He was finally beginning to regain feeling in his fingers when he heard someone trotting down the stairs behind him.

He spun around to see David pulling his hat down over his brown curls. David gave him a bright smile and crossed the room with his hand extended. Blondie shook his hand tightly and returned the smile. "Hello Davey."

"Good to see you," David said, warming his hands over the stove. "What brings you out in this weather?"

"I gotta see Jack."

David nodded, pulling out a book and settling into a chair. "You and me both. Make yourself comfortable, he's out."

Blondie hung his head and sank glumly into a facing chair. The prospect of going back out into the cold did not sound appealing, but Spot would not be pleased if he returned without finding Isie. Not to mention that as the night wore on, he was becoming increasingly worried about her too. He ran a hand through his hair in frustration.

His stomach gave a loud growl and David raised an eyebrow at him. "Hungry?"

Blondie smirked and the two of them snuck off to the kitchen.


	9. Chapter 8

Jack's body had long since gone numb as he wandered around Manhattan. Having dropped Sarah off at home nearly an hour earlier, he could not bring himself to go back to the lodging house and face David, especially with his conversation with Sarah still swimming around in his head. He idly thumbed the end of his cigarette, staring around at the snow covered streets. It took no stretch of the imagination to see that there were problems with their relationship, but how had Sarah known? Jack has spent years hardening himself, building a dam to clock out his memories. He was so sure that he had conquered the past and hidden his feelings from everyone around him. Sarah's voice rang out in his head. "She's a lucky woman."

He took a long drag on his cigarette, closing his eyes in am attempt to concentrate on the smoke's soothing effect. Instead, an image of Isie flashed before his eyes, her cheeks flushed and grey eyes dancing. A new, surprising warmth spread through his body.

He shook his head violently to clear the thoughts from his mind, but the fog only thickened. He could not shake her eyes or her smile. The sweet sound of her laughter had even begun to reverberate in the back of his mind. He frantically took another drag from his cigarette. He wracked his brain to think of something, anything to distract from those thoughts, but it was no use. The dam was broken. He exhaled slowly and turned toward the lodging house.

The Brooklyn lodging house was quieter than normal when Champ and Kiara finally returned. They sidled up to the stove, suddenly aware of how cold they had become. Only when the feeling had returned to his fingers did Champ notice Blade sitting in the shadows idly flicking his knife open and closed as he watched them.

"You're done with her then?" he asked when he met Champ's eyes, nodding toward Kiara with a hungry grin. He began circling her like a vulture, his eyes dancing over every inch of her pale skin.

Kiara wrapped her arms self-consciously around her shoulders, pulling her shawl tighter over her bare skin. She eyed him apprehensively, giving her the appearance of a cornered animal desperate for escape. Champ was watching Blade too, his fists clenched tightly at his side.

An evil grin pulled at the corners of Blade's mouth and he reached out a hand to touch her arm. "I wouldn't mind a go."

Kiara pulled away in disgust and Champ felt his anger boil over. Instinct kicked in and he threw a tight hook that connected squarely with Blade's chin. "You stay away from her."

Blade recoiled quickly, meeting Champ's intense stare, still smirking. "Give it up Champ. You ain't prince charming."

Taking advantage of Blade's arrogance, Champ connected another blow. After a moment of shock, Blade reeled around, knife drawn and lunged at him.

"Break it up!"

They both turned in shock to see Spot racing down the stairs, cane drawn. Champ quickly ignored him and turned his concentration back on Blade and his knife. He was quickly stopped when the golden tip of Spot's cane came to his throat. "I said break it up."

He used the cane to guide Champ to his feet and toward the corner where Kiara stood. Spot helped Blade to his feet, glancing at the knife in his hand. "Put that away, will ya boyo?"

Blade nodded and pocketed his knife. He shot Champ another dirty look, dabbing at the blood that trickled from his nose. "I'm goin to clean up."

Spot nodded and rounded on Champ, who was still seething. He gave him a once over with his cold grey eyes. "You alright?"

Champ nodded curtly.

"Good," Spot replied coldly. "Then make yourself useful and find a place for her to sleep." He glanced over at Kiara for the first time, shocked by her expression. He quickly put the pieces of the situation together. "As far from Blade as possible. Then you come see me."

Champ breathed a sigh of relief. He had not been in Spot's good graced for quite some time, and his perpetual fighting didn't seem to help things. In this case, however, it seemed that Spot agreed with him. "Sure thing Spot."

Spot returned his cane to his belt loop and started for the stairs.

"What'd you do with Isie?"

He turned, wide-eyed. He was not used to such pointed questions, especially from a shy, fragile girl. Trying to reign in his temper, he continued up the stairs. "I ain't done nothin. Now get yourselves to bed."

Kiara frowned and dropped unceremoniously into the ragged chair in the corner. Any comfort that she had felt earlier in the evening had been stripped away. She felt more vulnerable than ever. To top it off, she felt lost and alone without Isie by her side for the first time in two years. A cold feeling of dread spread through her body. Pulling up her knees, she hugged them tightly as tears started to sting at her eyes.

Noticing her change in demeanor, Champ knelt before the chair. As a tear slipped down her cheek, he reached up and brushed it away. He pulled at her chin, forcing her to look into her eyes. "Please don't cry. Everything's gonna be alright. I gave my word to Isie that I'd protect ya. And I never break my word."

He stood and offered a hand to help her up. "Come on, lets get you some rest and I'll see if I can find out what's happenin."


	10. Chapter 9

Blondie scraped the bottom of the chipped bowl with his spoon, determined to eat every last drop of stew. The front door squeaked open and cold air filled the room. David nudged Blondie, who's back was to the door and he spun around. Crossing the threshold was Jack Kelly, his face red from the wind.

When Jack saw Blondie, he furrowed his brow in confusion. He ran a hand through his hair in frustration and pulled off his jacket. "What'd he send you for Blondie? He gonna pin this on me?"

"Jack-"

"Or did he think of another way to ruin my life?"

"Listen, Jack-"

Jack simply ignored Blondie, his anger from two years boiling to the surface. "Who the hell does he think he is? When is he gonna realized that he may own Brooklyn, but he don't rule the world? I'm sick of his shit-"

"Kelly-"

"He thinks he knows what's best for everyone, so be it, but there is no way in hell that I am going to sit back and watch him ruin my life or Isie's. I love her." As soon as the words were out of his mouth, Jack's eyes widened. Somehow his subconscious had answered all the questions that had been swimming in his head for months.

"No you don't."

Jack's head shot to Blondie, fixing the smaller boy with a steely cold glare.

"You don't, neither of you do. You have let this damn competition between you two destroy her life. If either of you had her best interest in mind he wouldn't have sent her away, and you wouldn't have let it happen. And she sure as hell wouldn't have left again. So fuck you both!" Blondie threw up his arms in frustration and bolted out the door.

Jack quickly recovered from shock and darted out into the dark street after him. "Where?"

Blondie ignored him and sped up toward Brooklyn.

"Come on, Blondie. Tell me where she is."

Blondie gave an exasperated sigh and spun around. "Why?"

"Because I wanna find her, she may be in trouble," Jack said softly, the concern in his voice nearly choking him.

"Ain't you learned by now that she can take care of herself?" Blondie was shocked how convincingly he masked the worried quiver in his own voice.

Jack was desperate. "You just gonna go back and tell Spot you gave up? Good luck with that."

"It ain't your problem."

Jack stood in the street watching Blondie disappear into the shadows. He pulled out a cigarette and lit it with great difficulty, his hands shaking uncontrollably. Whether it was the cold or the thought of losing Isie for another two years didn't matter. He just needed to find her.

Without giving it too much thought, he started down the street in no particular direction. It was up to his heart to lead him now.

Champ watched Kiara finish washing her face in the bathroom, captivated as she crossed the room toward him. She looked much more relaxed, swimming in the spare shirt and pants that he had found for her. Her hair hung in damp clumps of curls around her shoulders and her skin showed with a renewed glow that made her look more angelic than ever. He smiled shyly at her when they met in the middle of the room, handing her the extra blanket in his hands.

"It's a cold night," he explained awkwardly. "I set up a bed for you in the corner."

Kiara smiled gratefully, following him across the room. The springs of the bed creaked under her weight as she sat, and she instantly felt relief wash over her whole body. The only thing that she could think of was curling up under the covers and sleeping for days.

"Anything else I can get fer ya?" Champ asked, carefully sitting beside her.

"No, thank you. You've already done so much."

Champ blinked and nodded "Well you try to get some rest. My bunk is right over there if you need me."

With a smile, Kiara swung her legs around and scooted down under the covers. The warmth instantly enveloped her. "Thank you, Champ. For everything."

"Sweet Dreams." In a move bolder than usual, he leaned down and lightly placed a kiss on her forehead.

Kiara gave a soft, sleepy smile before her eyelids fell heavily and the lodginghouse around her slipped into darkness. A hazy fog settled into her mind and she fell into a dreamless sleep.

His face still burning, Champ leaned against the brass pole of the bed, mesmerized as Kiara's breathing became steady and deep. When she was certain that she was asleep and safe, he left her bedside. Setting his jaw, he crossed the room to where Blade sat on his bunk reading a paper.

Champ kicked the bed to get Blade's attention. With mild irritation, Blade lowered his paper. "Whatta ya want?"

"You lay one hand on her and I swear that I _will_ kill you."

A smirk began to pull at Blade's lips, but when he saw the glare on Champ's face, he felt better of it. He nodded curtly.

Champ pushed passed him and, with one glance back to Kiara, started down the hall to Spot's room. With the door slightly ajar, Champ could see Spot laying on his bed, staring at the ceiling.

"Ya might as well come in if you're gonna jist stand there starin."

Champ jumped. Spot's keen senses were sometimes frightening. He entered slowly as Spot sat up and lit a cigarette.

"Ya gonna tell me what that was all about back there?"

Champ shook his head. "It's taken care of."

Spot sighed and offered Champ a cigarette. "Already fallen for her have ya?"

Champ blushed and busied himself with lighting a cigarette.

"I'll have a little chat with Blade in the mornin. No more fightin, ya hear me?"

"Loud and clear," he replied with a nod, smiling slightly. He has the feeling that it wouldn't be a problem after the look of fear on Blade's face. He turned to leave, but froze with his hand on the doorknob. "Spot?"

"What?"

Champ turned and swallowed with difficulty. "What happened to Isie?"

Spot glared at him for a moment before taking another long drag on his cigarette. "She bolted. Blondie's out lookin for her."

Champ hung his head. He knew full well where she had gone. "Anythin I can do to help?"

"You just go keep an eye on that girl of yours."

With that, he excused himself into the hallway and leaned his back against the opposite wall, lazily finishing his cigarette.

Jack unconsciously navigated the streets, but already knew where he would be when he looked up. When he looked up at the old, crumbling red bricks of the abandoned apartment building, he felt as though he had been struck by lightning. The hairs on his arms and the back of his neck stood up on end. It was as though he had gone back in time. The window just to the left of the door glowed dimly from the flickering candle on the other side of the glass. It took some concentration but he finally forced his feet to cross the threshold. The soft sound of sniffling echoed through the building and Jack moved through the darkness, being guided more by his memory than his eyes. Squinting as he came into the candlelight, he saw her. He suddenly found it hard to breathe. He hesitated only a second before forcing himself to speak, but all the words that he had prepared for that moment failed him. All that he could manage was to weakly whisper her name.


	11. Chapter 10

Isie jumped when she heard Jack's voice behind her. She spun around, staring at him in disbelief. He was the last person that she had expected to be searching for her.

Her throat went dry as she stared at him in the candlelight. She finally had the chance to examine him up close for the first time. Though years had passed, his appearance had changed very little. His shoulders had broadened, muscles taking shape in his arms, and his face seemed a bit more hardened, but he was still the same sweet boy that she had left two years earlier. The deep green eyes that she knew well were searching hers in what Isie was sure was a glimmer of hope.

She sat before him numbly, unsure if the weak feeling in her knees would allow her to stand. Jack cleared her throat. "Spot sent Blondie lookin for ya."

Isie cringed at the mention of her brother's name. So that explained it. He had come because her brother had asked him to. She suddenly felt nauseous. It figured that Jack would be working for Spot especially since he had already moved on. She stood defiantly and locked eyes with him. "Well you can tell him you found me."

A look of confusion washed over Jack's face, but she ignored it. Blowing out the candle, she pushed passed him and started for the door.

Jack recovered quickly and grabbed her elbow as she passed. "Isie wait."

"Why?" she asked, pulling her arm free of his grasp.

"Because I can't lose you again." He pulled her to him roughly, catching her off guard. His lips crashed with hers, sure that he would bruise her, but at that moment it didn't matter. His whole body felt like it was on fire and he was ready to consume her in the flames with him. It took him a long moment to realize that she was fighting to push away from him and he reluctantly let her go. When she pulled back, he froze.

Her cheeks were streaked with heavily lines of tears and she wrapped her arms around herself tightly. He went to wrap his arms around her but she pulled back. "Stop."

"Isie." Jack meant to sound comforting, but it came out more of a groan than anything else.

"What the hell do you think you are doing?"

Jack stared at her in mute confusion, still unconsciously reaching for her.

She pulled away from him and started for the door. "Go back to your girlfriend."

Jack froze. "You saw us?"

"Look, it's none of my business. I left. I get it."

"It's not like that," Jack started, following Isie to the door. "Please, hear me out Isabel."

Setting her jaw and completely ignoring the tears that were falling from her chin, she turned to face him.

"It's over. Sarah and I. It's been over for months, but neither of us would admit it," Jack said as quickly as possible, unsure how long Isie would stay.

"Didn't seem that way to me."

"We were saying goodbye Isie, I swear. I love you. I always have. And the moment that I saw you again I knew: There's no one else that I could be with."

He took a tentative step toward her and much to his surprise, she didn't back away. She simply wiped away her tears and met his eyes, searching them in confusion. Taking it as a sign to continue, Jack ran his hand through his hair and took a deep breath.

"I tried to come looking for you, I swear. Spot wouldn't even look at me for months, let alone tell me where you were. You know him, Isie. If he wants to keep something secret-"

She nodded. "I know."

He extended a shaky hand, trying frantically to hold her again. "Isie, please forgive me."

The desperation in his voice and the sadness in his eyes finally broke Isie's resolve. She quickly closed the distance between them and collapsed into his arms. Enveloped in Jack's strong arms, Isie felt safer than she had in years. She rested her head against his chest, not even noticing that her tears were soaking his shirt. She could feel his body shaking. When she leaned back to look up at him, the corners of his eyes were glistening with tears.

"Are you alright?" she asked softly.

He nodded, wiping the tears from her cheeks. "Never better."

She gave him a broad smile, in spite of the tears still falling down her cheeks. That one smile was all Jack needed. He leaned down and covered her lips with his, much more gently than before, but the heat spread through his body like a firecracker had been set off somewhere deep inside. He was relieved when he felt her hands tangling in his hair, reciprocating the kiss just as passionately as he began it.

Isie felt herself melting into him, a familiar chill running up her spine. Her body came alive as he pulled her backward into the room, every nerve in the body tingling. She felt the world around her begin to fade into a thick haze. The conscious part of her mind told her to pull away. More than anything, she wanted to allow herself to slip back into her comfortable life in Jack's arms, but something told her that she needed to share in his honesty. He deserved to know what has happened in Boston, what she had become.

Fighting against her every impulse to deepen the kiss, she forced herself to pull away. With the candle out, the only light in the room was the pale moonlight cascading down through the yellowed windows. A look of anxiety flashed on Jack's face as she took a step back to steady herself.

"You need to know… I have been-"

Jack shook his head and held a finger up to her lips. He knew full well what she was about to say. Having lived his whole life on the seedy streets of New York, he knew what Isie's revealing, tattered clothing meant. "I don't care. You're here now, that's all that matters."

Fresh tears stung her eyes. He understood her past and with those three words, forgave her. At that moment she couldn't ask for more. Without another word, she melted into his arms.

Blondie's stared down at the murky water of the Hudson River, idly thumbing a cigarette. Jack had a point, going back to Brooklyn without Isie would likely get him introduced to the business end of Spot's cane. He was sure that he knew where to find her. He was, after all, the one who had shown them where to find the old, secluded apartment building, a decision which he had come to regret in the last two years. By now he was sure, especially given their conversation, that Jack wandered to the apartment building. He finished his cigarette and tossed the butt into the churning black water below him. With a sigh of frustration, he turned his back on Brooklyn and navigated through the streets of Manhattan.

His suspicions were confirmed as he opened the front door of the apartment building with a creak. His foot froze over the threshold as the distinct sounds of rustling and moans that proved that Jack had found Isie. Unwilling to interrupt their reunion, more to save himself the embarrassment than anything else, Blondie backed onto the porch.

Wrapping his jacket tighter around him, he cleared off the snow from the step and pulled out another cigarette.


	12. Chapter 11

Spot felt Ell crawl into bed beside him, but didn't acknowledge her presence. His mind was still racing too much to put his thoughts into words. Confident that Blondie would return with Isie at any moment, he was scrambling to figure out how he was going to handle the situation before he had to face her. As Ell unceremoniously draped a hand over his chest, he finally sighed and opened his eyes.

"Who was the girl that I saw you dragging off across Manhattan this afternoon?" she asked, thick accent made stronger by a sleepy rasp.

Spot was shocked by the tone of her questions. Most of the women with who he had shared his bed with had a jealous streak. Had any of them see him with another girl, especially one dressed as Isie had been that afternoon, they would have given him an earful, if not walked out. He smiled down at her and wrapped his arm around hers. He waited for her to return his smile before speaking.

"She's my sister," he said softly, wrapping his other hand around her.

She gave a knowing nod and leaned forward, covering his lips with hers gently. Spot returned the kiss with intensity, pulling her to him. With Ell in his arms, he had found an escape from his thoughts. Suddenly Isie and all the problems that came with her was the furthest thing from his mind. Reluctantly pulling himself away from her, he leaned over and blew out the flickering candle.

Even in the dark, cold, empty apartment, Isie felt like her whole body was on fire. She lay in Jack's arms, covered by a thin sheet. For the first time in years that she could remember, she had absolutely no impulse to move from a man's arm. Jack leaned down, leaving a trail of warm kisses down to her collarbone before snuggling into the hollow of her neck.

"Please never leave me again."

It was murmured against her neck and his voice was husky, but Isie felt like she was soaring when she realized what he said. Right there, at that moment, there was nothing better that she could think of than to lay there with him forever.

What felt like hours later, Jack pulled away from her slightly. She suddenly felt cold, wrapping her arms around herself. He sat up, smiling down at her sadly. "Come on, we had better get you back to Spot."

Isie's eyes went wide and she opened her mouth to protest. Jack stopped her with a gentle kiss.

"Isie, I don't know why you came back, but something tells me that it wasn't because of me." He sighed, running a hand through his hair before he continued. "Look, your brother may not be my favorite person right now, but you and I both know that he can offer you better protection than I ever could."

She felt her lip quivering, but fought to hold back the tears that threatened to well in her eyes. "So that's it, you just want me for one night and then you are going to send me packing back to Brooklyn?"

Jack wrapped his arms around. "You know that I didn't mean that. Right now the most important thing is that you are safe."

She narrowed her eyes at him. "By sending me back to him."

"No. But I am sure that he is as worried about you as I was." Jack ran his calloused hands over her cheeks gently. "I will take you back and we'll work something out. I swear."

Reluctantly, Isie nodded in agreement and slowly began to dress.

Blondie was on his fifth cigarette and couldn't feel his toes by the time that the apartment door behind him creaked open. Isie jumped as she walked through the door and Jack protectively jumped in front of her.

"Stand down," Blondie said with a chuckle, throwing aside his cigarette. "It's just me."

Jack spit in his hand and extended it. "Decided not to head back to Brooklyn?"

"You kiddin me, Spot woulda killed me."

And with that, the three of them started back to Brooklyn, the earlier animosity between Blondie and Jack forgotten. Their concentration became getting through the thickening snowfall to the safety of the Brooklyn Lodging house.

Champ had just fallen into a light sleep when he heard voices downstairs. Apparently Spot had heard the voices at the same moment because his shadow passed by the door, pulling up his suspenders with one hand and brandishing his cane in the other. Champ quietly crawled out of bed and reached for the shirt that lay over the footboard of his bed. As he passed by Kiara's bed, a soft hand reached out to take his.

"What is going on?" she asked in a groggy voice, sitting up gingerly in the bed.

He smiled down at her. "I'm going to check it out right now."

"May I come along?"

Champ felt a small pull in his stomach. Unsure of the hazard downstairs, he wasn't sure whether he wanted her exposed to any danger. With the warmth of her hand in his quickly spreading through his body, the need to have her by his side won out. Nodding, he tightened the grasp on her hand and led her down the stairs.

The scene before them has once again fallen into silence. Jack and Spot stood glaring at each other, Isie clinging to Jack's hand and eyeing her brother apprehensively. Champ and Kiara descended the stairs quietly, coming to a stop beside Blondie, who was eyeing the others with apprehension.

"What do you think you're doin here, boyo?" Spot finally broke the silence, his cane still brandished treacherously.

Jack tightened his grip on Isie's hand, but stood strong. Standing up to his full height, an easy foot over Spot, he appeared to have the advantage, but he kept a careful eye on Spot's cane. "We need to talk Spot."

"I got nothing to say to you. Now let go of my sister and get the hell out of my city."

Jack set his jaw. "So you can just send her away again? There is no way in hell that I'd allow that."

Spot glared at him. "You ain't got a say in it."

"That's enough!"

Releasing Jack's hand, Isie pushed her way in between them. Though she appeared small and fragile between the two great leaders of New York, both of their actions instantly changed. Spot lowered his cane to his belt loop and Jack crossed his arms defiantly over his chest.


	13. Chapter 12

"I'm so sick of you," Isie spat, pushing them further apart. Jack shot Spot a smug smile, which didn't go unnoticed by Isie. She turned her glare onto him. "Both of you."

With the silent tension in the room mounting, Kiara tightened her grip on Champ's hand. He nodded and gave her hand a reassuring squeeze before releasing it. He and Blondie swiftly crossed the room, flanking Isie protectively.

Taking a steadying breath, Isie finally broke the silence again. "Can we please just put the past in the past?"

Before any of them had a chance to respond, there was a sharp knock on the heavy door of the lodging house. Squinting, Spot was sure that he had read the old grandfather clock wrong. 2:45. His boys knew to be home before midnight, and if they did get locked out, none of them had the audacity to knock on the door. "Who the hell could that be?"

Argument quickly forgotten, Jack and Spot started for the door, Blondie hot on their heels. Late night visitors in Brooklyn were usually unwelcome. Champ's stomach suddenly flip-flopped. Something just didn't seem right. Acting on instinct, he pulled Isie to the stairs and pushed her and Kiara up a few steps.

Isie eyed him curiously. "What-"

"Just get up there and stay out of sight." He fixed his gaze on Isie. "I mean it."

Without giving them time to protest, he trotted to the door to join the others just in time for Spot to lift the deadbolt. Cane drawn, Spot led the group over the threshold and onto the snow covered steps. With a quick sweep of the seemingly empty street, Spot was satisfied that the visitor had given up. He had just turned to guide the others back into the lodging house when the cold click of a gun hammer cocking split the night.

Isie could feel her muscles tighten as she watched the boys being led back into the room at gunpoint. Squinting through the darkness, she tried to identify the gunman, but his face was silhouette by the dim lamps that were lit around the room. She went to stand from her lookout in the shadows on the top of the stairwell, but Kiara pulled her back down.

"You've got alot a nerve comin into my place and drawin a gun boyo," Spot warned, his voice deceptively flat. "Ya better tell me whatcha want quick."

"You Conlon?" The gunman turned the barrel to aim directly between Spot's eyes, his voice rough with a thick Boston accent.

Isie felt as if all the blood had drained from her body. They had found her.

Spot nodded evenly, his eyes locking with the man across from him. He refused to back down, even if the man was nearly twice his size and holding a gun to his head. "Who wants to know?"

"Come on kid, my boss wants to talk to ya."

The gunman had stepped further into the room, his tanned face illuminated by the dim lamps that lined the walls. Isie peaked through the shadows and tried best she could to identify him. It only took one split second. The jagged scar that ran across his left cheek and the grotesque crooked nose still stood out in her mind. Her breath hitched and she grabbed Kiara's hand.

"Get upstairs," she whispered hastily. "Go. Hide."

Kiara narrowed her eyes at her and was about to argue, but Isie held her fingers to her lips as the footsteps in the lobby got closer to the stairs. She gave Kiara a pleading look and mouthed "It's Wolfe."

As Kiara tiptoed back into the bunkroom, Isie turned her attention back to the scene below her.

"I ain't a kid and I ain't goin anywhere with you," Spot shot back. "Now who the hell are you?"

"Who I am don't matter."

Spot was growing tired of the banter and even more tired of staring down the barrel of the stranger's revolver. "Look ya come in here at all hours of the night, pull a gun on me and start barkin orders. Nobody's allowed to do that. So I better start gettin some answers soon or-"

"Or what kid?"

With that Spot's patience snapped. His hand went to his cane, drawing it before the man even had time to react. The other three boys stared at him like he was mad. His cane was no match for a revolver and they were sure that at any moment they would watch the Brooklyn leader get a bullet through the head.

The gunman just laughed. "You've got balls, I'll give ya that. Might come in handy when ya meet O'Shea."

"O'Shea?" Spot knew the name well. Even in New York the Boston gang leader was notorious.

"Seen your sister lately, Conlon? We've got a score to settle with her."

The mention of Isie made all of the newsies tense. Spot's cane, still pointed menacingly at the gunman's throat began to shake as his anger began to bubble over. Jack came to his side, crossing his arms over his chest as and glaring directly into the man's eyes. Feeling the support of Jack at his side, Spot replied coolly. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"Oh I think that you do." He pushed the gun forward, backing them toward the stairs until Isie could nearly reach out to touch Jack's shoulder from her hiding place just behind the railing. "That little whore killed my partner and O'Shea don't take to kindly to that. I know she's here somewhere, her and her little Irish friend. Give her up kid. I don't wanna have to start shooting."

"Go ahead," Spot replied.

"No." Isie was on her feet before even she realized what she was doing. All five sets of eyes turned to her as she descended the stairs. Her body went numb as Wolfe turned the gun so that the barrel was pointed directly at her heart. Spot quickly recovered from the shock and took advantage of Wolfe's snagged attention, cracking his cane across the man's arm. The gun flew out of his hand and ratted across the splintered wood floor. Blondie scampered after it while Spot continued his assault on the rest of Wolfe's body. Champ fought his way behind the man and held his arms tightly.

"Give me that gun boyo," Spot called to Blondie, lowering his cane when he was sure that Wolfe was secured. He pointed the barrel at the man's crooked nose. "We ain't been properly introduced. I'm Spot Conlon, and this is my city. Now get the hell out of here before you and your boss get yourselves killed."

Wolfe sneered up at him. "You don't have it in ya kid."

Spot raised an eyebrow and cocked the revolver. "Wanna bet?"


	14. Chapter 13

The gunshot echoed through the whole building.

Isie stared at her brother, wide-eyed with shock. He still held the gun still, smoke dancing around the barrel. Her attention turned back to Wolfe who lay on the floor writhing in pain, blood oozing from the fresh wound. At the last moment, Spot had lowered the barrel of the gun, lodging a bullet in the man's leg, just above the knee.

"You pass that message along to your boss, with my compliments," Spot said with a smirk, kicking the wounded man toward the door.

Champ tried to slow his heart rate as he watched Wolfe crawl toward the door. The adrenaline rush from the fight and being far too close to someone who had just been shot had the blood pumping through his veins so quickly that it made him dizzy. As soon as Wolfe was safely out the door, Champ threw the bolt across and turned to Spot. "A warning would have been nice. That was a little to close for comfort."

Spot shrugged and turned his back to the door, leaning against the rough wood.

Kiara sat frozen on the bed as the boys around her stirred from sleep and bolted out the door. She felt like all the blood had drained from her body. If she had learned one thing from her dealings with the O'Shea gang, it was that when they shot, they never missed. A sudden vision of a certain redhead facing the cold steel barrel of Wolfe's gun flashed before her eyes and she felt her pulse accelerate. Mustering up as much courage as she could manage, she pushed herself off the bed and followed the throng of newsies down the stairs.

"Nothing to see here boys," she heard echo from the lobby as she slowly descended the stairs. "Get back to bed."

She plastered herself against the wall as the crowd of boys pushed passed her and headed back to the bunk room. When they had finally cleared out, she got her first view of the lobby. Wolfe was nowhere to be seen, but there was a trail of blood that led out the door. Her eyes instinctively searched for Isie, scanning her petite body quickly to insure that she was unharmed. Satisfied that Isie wasn't injured, she let her eyes wander across the room. They settled on Champ, sitting on the tattered couch directly across the room from her, hanging his head. Even from across the room, she could see his hands shaking faintly. He chose that moment to look up, locking his green eyes with hers. A slow smile crept across his lips as he stood and swiftly crossed the room.

Champ's nerves immediately calmed when he saw Kiara come down the stairs. There was something comforting in her presence. All thoughts of the fight and shooting were replaced with thoughts that he didn't really want to admit to yet. He reached her just as she reached the final step and tentatively rested a hand on either side of her slender waist, his eyes never leaving hers. As if reading his thoughts and giving silent consent, Kiara wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him closer to her.

Their intimate moment was quickly interrupted when Spot's voice pierced the air.

"What the hell have you gotten us into Isabel?" He pushed her backward with the tip of his can poking into her shoulder until he back knocked into the wall. Jack lunged for Spot, pulling him off of Isie and landing them both on the floor in the process. Two years of pent up frustration between the two of them bubbled to the surface and fists started flying.

Blondie dashed across the room and went to pull them apart, getting an elbow to the eye for his trouble. "A little help here Champ!"

The redhead in question reluctantly broke away from Kiara, somehow oblivious to the fight happening behind them. When he saw the tangle of body parts and Blondie's reddening eye, Champ cursed and bolted toward them. He and Blondie each reached for one of the leaders and tried in vein to pull them apart. Isie joined in the chaos, reaching blindly into the mess or limbs to calm them men any way she could.

Suddenly everything seemed to move in slow motion. Spot pulled away quickly, sending Blondie flailing across the floor. Before anyone could react, the revolver was pulled from its forgotten place at the back of Spot's pants and aimed directly at Jack.

Everyone in the room froze.

"Put the gun down, Spot," Champ pleaded, holding up a hand and trying to pull Jack out of the line of fire at the same moment. Blondie tried to lunge at Spot's extended hand, but was knocked backward by the business end of his cane.

"None of this would have happened if it weren't for you," Spot spat venomously, cocking the gun.

Without hesitation, Isie stepped in front of Jack and into the line of fire. When Jack finally recovered from the shock, he tried to push Isie back out of the way, but she stood her ground.

"You going to shoot me Spot?" She raised her head defiantly. "Cause if anyone is to blame here, it's me."

Spot's hand began to shake, but he didn't lower the gun.

"Go ahead," Isie continued defiantly. "Do it. I dare you."


	15. Chapter 15

"Enough!" Blondie shouted from his place on the floor. They all turned to him in shock as he pushed himself up and sauntered over to the group with surprising ease. Ignoring the glare that he was getting from Spot, he reached for the gun. "Put this damn thing away, it ain't solving anything."

A smirk pulled at the corner of Champ's mouth. Leave it to Blondie, ever the voice of reason, to keep a cool head in any situation, even against the great Spot Conlon.

"Fightin with each other's only gonna make this harder." In one swift motion, Blondie had grabbed the gun, replaced the hammer and safely stashed it in his belt loop. "Now I suggest that we stop throwin around blame and figure out what we're gonna do before any more big Irish men with guns come snoopin around."

"There's nothing to figure out."

Spot rolled his eyes. "What are you talkin about Isie? Did you miss the man that came in here ready to shoot ya?"

"We're with you, Isie," Jack said, shooting a glare at Spot and taking her hand.

"The way I see it I have two choices," Isie said softly, shaking off Jack's hand and moving to the window. She wrapped her arms tightly around her chest and stared out into the darkness. "I can either face the consequences of my actions or spend the rest of my life hiding." She turned and looked pointedly at Spot. "And Conlons don't hide."

"What's the plan?" her brother asked.

"First thing's first. We need to get Kiara somewhere safe," Isie said softly.


End file.
